


Teach Me

by KeiylaD



Category: Defiance (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 03:18:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4419155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeiylaD/pseuds/KeiylaD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever wonder how Alak and Christie met? It was just a coincidence, a mutual friendship that turned into something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Teach Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, y'all! This is a series of chapters following parts of Christie and Alak's relationship that we didn't get to see on screen. Some of it will be canon-compliant, and some is just completely from the realm of my imagination. It'll be mostly fluff, because these two deserve some happiness.

“Dad, can I go out now?” Christie McCawley asked, holding her hair out of her face with a wet hand and reaching for a towel with the other. “I’ve finished the dishes and the laundry, but I wanted to go look at the traders in the town center today.”

 

Rafe McCawley looked up from the set of blueprints in his hands and leaned back in his chair, resting his arms on the smooth wood of the kitchen table. “As long as you remember the rules,” he reminded her in his gruff voice. People always said his voice made him seem scary, but to Christie he was just her father. “Don’t-”

“‘Don’t go into anyone’s house, stay in sight of the center square at all times, don’t go near the mines, don’t be a bother, and be smart.’” Christie recited. “I know, dad. I’m nearly fifteen.” She hung the towel over the back of the chair and walked past her father, patting his shoulder reassuringly. Her white bag lay on the bottom step of the stairs, and as she grabbed it she heard a yell from the kitchen.

“Hey!” her father barked. “Don’t go near those haints, either, Christie!" 

Her fingers found the metal of the doorknob. "Yes, dad,” she called back, but as the door opened in front of her, more softly she sighed. “Castithans,” she reminded her unknowing father. “They’re called Castithans.”

The door swung shut behind her, a small click letting her know it had latched. With a jump in her step, Christie jogged down the steps and up the path toward Defiance.

* * *

 

 

The town was a bustling place of activity. People were everywhere, humans and Votans alike, playing and exploring and doing business. As she walked through the streets, Christie paid close attention to the ongoings around her. Her curiosity with this town and its inhabitants always kept her up thinking at night, but her father only let her come into town once or twice a week, and it was often for specific errands. Being able to observe at her liesure was a commodity she was unaccustomed to, but which was also very rewarding, given her fascination with the new aliens and their cultures.

Across the street an Irathient woman with vivid red hair and golden eyes was tossing a ball between herself and two little boys with dark blonde hair. A human woman who appeared to be their mother watched, looking mildly worried, the lines of her face drawn down with caution. The boys fought over who got to catch the ball each time while the Irathient waited patiently, dribbling the ball below her until the boys came to an agreement.

Just a few steps up the road, a two Castithan girls and a young human girl seemed to be playing a game of hide and seek; after looking hard enough, Christie spotted a Sensoth who was crouched down behind a box, his auburn fur blending with the tans and dark browns of the buildings. He had bared his teeth in what looked like as grin as he closely watched the children who were searching for him. Christie wondered if he volunteered to do this for fun, or if he was a Castithan servant who had been endowed with the task of babysitting.

Delighted with the interactions she was observing, Christie walked with a hop in her step down the street in the direction of the town center, where most of the shops were set up during the day. Even from this far down the street she saw the white tent flaps whipping about as people moved between them, looking for a piece of clothing or a loaf of bread meant to accompany their next dinner. 

Christie first headed toward the agriculture tents on the right side of the square, one of the busiest areas in the shopcenter. A few weeks ago a girl had mentioned to her that traders would be moving through Defiance with mangoes and other more rare crops, and she was desperate to buy some of the sweet fruit. Within moments she located the traders’ tents, characterized by a darker red flap that one didn’t normally see in town. She fought through groups of people, aware that she was not the only person looking to buy from these traders, and hoped that the fruits had not already been bought out. She shrugged aside the slightly concealing canvas of the far side of one of the tents and moved into the shade of the overhang, immediately maneuvering around more people for the light orange and green fruits in the back and the box labeled 'Mangoes’ in English, Casithan, and Irathient.

They were soft and fuzzy on the outside, prickly underneath her palm as she picked one up and rolled it between her hands. She looked around for a trader to ask about a price, but soon caught sight of a small handwritten label taped to the outside of the mango box. Happy with the price, she picked three of the best-looking fruits and placed them carefully in the bottom of her bag, dropping the appropriate number of coins into the hand of a man who sat just inside the far edge of the tent as she ducked out from beneath the tent. 

The light of the sun slightly blinded her as she stepped from beneath the shade. It made her eyes water for a moment, and she squinted, her hand coming up to cover her eyes so that she could survey the other shops. Across the center square there was a huge, more permanent-looking pavilion set up with tables that held shiny pieces that caught her eye, and she headed in that direction. She passed a couple of vegetable stands and a jewelry stand, and nearly stopped at the latter when she spotted a necklace with a beautifully carved purple crystal hanging from it. A gasp passed her lips at its beauty; but her face fell when she saw the price tag just below it.  _I’ll ask about it later,_ she told herself, and moved past with a slight sadness.

Upon closer observation, Christie realized that the shining objects in the tent across the street were knives; this seemed to be a weapons tent. Behind the table stood a tall man with a pair of sunglasses who paid her no attention as she stepped closer to the weapons. Carefully she reached out to pick up one of the smaller blades and pulled it carefully from its sheath, admiring its sharp edges and the dark metal it was forged from. She pressed her slender finger to its tip and squinted at the oddly painful itch that seemed to well on her finger upon its contact.

“Do you actually know how to use that?” inquired a voice behind her. Christie whirled around in search of its owner, nearly cutting herself with the blade in the process. Leaning against one of the poles of the tent was a pale Castithan boy who looked a little older than her, his lilac eyes intent on hers.

“Well… no,” Christie admitted apologetically. “I’ve never been taught. I was just looking.” She fiddled with the blade in her fingers. 

“They are pretty, aren’t they?” the Castithan boy asked, more in agreement than in question. He pushed away from the pole and walked toward her. Christie wasn’t scared by him despite his tall stature and strange coloring, but she was intrigued; his eyebrows and eyelashes were as pale as his hair, which reached almost to his shoulders and was a light white-blonde aside from one dark blue streak. His skin, unblemished and smooth, was also strangely pale, as though he had rubbed white powder all over himself. She had seen Casithans from afar but had never stood close enough to one to see their features clearly.

“Yeah, they are,” she agreed, dropping her gaze to the knife in her hand as she slid it back into its sheath and turned to place it back on the black cloth material covering the table.

“Wait,” said the boy, holding his hand out, and Christie paused, her hand resting on the sheath of the knife. “If you like it, why don’t you buy it?”

Christie thought for a moment, unsure of her reasoning.

“I don’t have a use for it,” she said finally. “I don’t think my father would teach me how to use it, and it’s too deadly to be a desk ornament.”

“What if I taught you?” the boy asked after a moment, his face lighting up slightly. “I need to practice, anyway.” His eyes searched hers, waiting for what he hoped would be a positive response.

A wave of shame crashed over her. “My dad… doesn’t like Votans,” she admitted, sadness washing over her. “He would be angry with me if he knew I was talking to you.”

“Your father doesn’t have to know,” the boy said, taking the news in stride. “I doubt my parents want me to hang out with a human either,” he said earnestly.

Christie hesitated for a moment, but only for a moment, before a smile spread across her face. 

“Okay,” she agreed. “You can teach me.”

“Great! Let’s go." 

"Now?” she asked, surprised. He nodded impatiently. 

“Yeah, now!” the boy confirmed. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her out of the tent. She had trouble keeping up with his long strides, but he maintained an iron grip around her wrist as he dragged her into the shade to the side of a building in the closest corner of the square.

“Here,” the boy said as he slowed and stopped, letting go of her wrist. “Use mine.” He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a knife very similar to the one she had just been looking at. He stretched his arm out to her, holding the tip of the blade between two fingers. Christie took it awkwardly, shifting it around in her hand so that she held it by its hilt.

“No,” he said with a chuckle, moving toward her. He reached out to grasp the knife with one hand and her fingers with his other. His feet shifted as he maneuvered himself to stand just behind her, his arms encircling hers as he positioned her hand on the hilt of the knife. 

“Hold it like this,” he told her, placing her fingers around it. His pale long, pale fingers were warm around hers. Christie grasped it firmly, trying to hold it like he directed, but no matter what she did he corrected something.

Christie laughed and was re-positioning her hand once again when a loud bell tolled, startling her into dropping the knife in her hand.

“Is that the 6 o'clock bell?” she asked, and he nodded as he leaned down to retrieve the blade. “I have to go. My father wants me home before dark.”

“Will you come back so that I can teach you?”

“I can’t come every day,” Christie told him after a moment’s hesitation. 

“That’s all right. Come whenever you can. I’m almost always in town, and I hang around here a lot. Just look around and you’ll see me. Come on, I’ll walk you back through the tents.” The boy grinned as he placed his hand on her shoulder.

She began walking back toward the center of the square, with him following close behind. They passed most of the tents, and she nearly walked past the one where she had seen the necklace before she remembered her mental note.

“Wait a moment!” she told the boy, rushing into the tent as its owners were packing up. Scrambling in her bag, she pulled out all of her coins and counted them as the shop woman waited with one hand on her hip. After a few breathless moments, Christie dropped her hands. 

“Never mind,” she told the woman. “Sorry.” She backed out of the tent into the quickly fading sunlight. 

“You’re not going to buy it?” the boy asked her for the second time since their meeting. 

“I don’t have enough,” she sighed, trying not to let her disappointment show. “Come on, I have to go.”

Instead, the boy grasped a part of her bag and pulled, keeping Christie from walking forward. He stepped into the tent, and put a hand on the shop woman’s shoulder to make her wait. Out of his pocket he pulled a small red bag full of clinking coins and handed the entire thing to the woman. He then lifted the purple crystal pendant from its hanger, holding it between his slender fingers. 

“This is the one you want, right?” he asked. Christie’s mouth opened slightly and she suddenly felt flustered.

“But it costs so much!” she exclaimed. “You don’t need to spend your money on it! Go on, put it back-”

“You want it, do you not?” he asked her again. She didn’t answer. “Come on, it’s just a bit of money. It will look really pretty if you wear it.” He stepped behind her, his arms coming down over her head to place the gem on her collarbone, and she shivered slightly as he swept her hair back and clasped the necklace behind her head. 

“Thank you so much,” she said happily, fingering the cool purple stone that rested just above her breast. “I’ll pay you back.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a gentle smile. “Now come on. Didn’t you say you have to get home?”

He walked her to far edge of the square and stopped just around the corner from the main road out of town, standing silently as though waiting for her to do something.

“Hey, thanks,” Christie said awkwardly. She tucked her bag next to her side and pulled a strand of her hair back with one hand, unsure of how to phrase her question. “Before I go… Tell me. What do you get out of this?”

“Out of what?” the boy asked, seeming genuinely confused.

“Out of teaching me how to use a knife and spending money on pretty jewelry?”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, and then he smiled, and the skin around his beautiful eyes crinkled. 

“Well, I like learning new things. And I like you. You’re nice. So, maybe if I teach you some things about me… will you teach me some things about you, and your human culture?”

“What do you want to know?” asked Christie. It hadn’t even occurred to her that some Votans might be just as curious about humans as she was about Votans. To the Votans, humans were the aliens.

“For starters,” the boy said, “What is an acceptable way to tell you goodbye for the night?”

“There… There are lots of ways,” Christie stuttered. “Way too many to explain in a few moments.” She stopped, unsure of what else to say without more time.

“Then I hope,” the boy said quietly, “That this is okay.” Before Christie realized what he was doing, he had grasped her hand in his own and brought it up to his mouth, pressing his lips against the the skin just below her knuckles. 

Christie blushed furiously and desperately hoped that the gathering darkness was enough to cover the evidence of her embarrassment on her cheeks. She didn’t know what to say, so when he dropped her hand, she bowed awkwardly with a muttered 'thank you,’ then turned away from him, in the direction of her home.

“Wait,” said the boy from behind her. “You never told me your name.”

“Christie,” she said, as she turned around. “My name is Christie. What about yours?”

She looked into his lovely lilac eyes as he answered; it was almost too dark to see anything other than his pale outline, but she heard his voice clearly.

“Me?” he said with a smile. “My name is Alak.”


	2. A Perfect Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christie's 16th birthday, and Alak wants her to have a great time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some free time today and wanted to write something else. This is my take on what Alak and Christie’s first kiss was like. In my mind, Alak and Christie couldn’t get together much, and their love progressed over nearly a year as opposed to them both just jumping into the relationship. In ‘Teach Me,’ Christie was about to turn fifteen; this fic is set a year later, on her sixteenth birthday. 
> 
> Someone also asked me to include a song playlist for the fics I write to set the mood: for this chapter, I think that the 'We Found Love’ cover by Lindsey Stirling and Ventribe is absolutely perfect.

“Alak, where are we going?” Christie whined, a reluctant smile spread across her face. Her hair was pulled neatly back from her face in a ponytail and her eyes were covered by a strip of black cloth that Alak had insisted on tying over her face.

“It’s a secret,” she heard him say with happiness in his voice. “A surprise. You’re not supposed to know until we get there.”

“But, Alak!” she protested, but only halfheartedly. She was more excited about his secrecy than anything else. “Come on, I can’t see anything, what if I trip?”

“That’s what I’m here for,” he said, his voice closer to her now. She felt his arm encircle her waist to support her, guiding her carefully through the brush underfoot. Christie didn’t know where they were going, but she could tell from the bright light filtering through the material over her eyes and the softness under her feet that they had left Defiance. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

“If it’s much further I’m going to hurt myself before we get there,” Christie laughed. “I still think I’m bound to trip over something.”

“I’ll catch you,” Alak said softly. “Don’t you trust me?”

“I trust you,” she replied, just as softly. She let him guide her body, pushing her slightly to the left or the right so that she wouldn’t fall. After a few more moments, he pulled to a stop and his firm grip on her waist halted her as well.

“We’re here,” he told her. His fingers came up to untie the knot behind her head and the material blocking her eyes fell away. “Happy birthday, Christie.”

Christie opened her eyes to the bright, yellow-orange light of a beginning sunset shining down on the tall grass of a small clearing. All around her were a ring of trees but this place was clear of everything except tall grass and beautiful white flowers. And on the ground a few steps ahead of her was a small covered basket laying over a beautifully woven white blanket.

Her mouth dropped open. She tried to speak but words seemed to evade her. As Alak stepped in front of her, his lilac eyes focused on hers, all she could do was smile. His face lit up with hers, his happiness apparent in every line of his face.

“I guess you like it, then,” he guessed, and Christie stepped forward to embrace him, burying her face into his chest. His strong arms came up to hold her and he rested his chin on her head. 

“It’s perfect,” she murmured. 

He chuckled and disentangled himself from her, pulling her toward the blanket. As she sat down, crossing her legs beneath her dress, Alak pulled the top off of the basket and tipped it over. Bright fruits spilled onto the ground, rolling in different directions. She caught one before it hit the ground and curled her fingers around it.

“Mangoes?” she asked. “They’re my favorite.”

“I noticed, the first time we met.” He watched her with a smile. “You went to the trading tents first and spent almost all of your money on the mangoes. And your friends told me you love them.”

“Now the truth comes out,” she joked.

“I have to admit, they’re pretty good,” Alak said with a grin. “Out of all the Earth fruits, they’re probably my favorite too.”

“Earth fruits? You mean you didn’t have mangoes on Casti?” she frowned slightly as she rubbed a speck of dirt off of the fruit with her thumb. “Hey, can I have your knife?”

“We didn’t, as far as I know,” Alak said. He reached into his pocket and handed her his knife - the same one he had first taught her to fight with. Christie took it from him with outstretched fingers, flipping it from its sheath with expert care. “What do you want that for?”

“To get the skin off,” she said. “It’s a pain to peel off with my fingers.” She placed the blade just below her thumb and scraped it along the fruit, removing the fuzzy covering strip by strip. 

“What are you looking at me like that for?” Christie asked a few moments later when she took her eyes off of her work. Alak had been staring at her strangely, confusion apparent in his expression.

“Are you supposed to do that?” he asked, pointing at the mango in her hands and the blade covered in the skin of the mushy fruit.

“Yeah,” she told him. “You didn’t know that?” She caught sight of the mango in his hand; with a rather large bite taken out of the side. “I guess not,” she amended with a grin.

“How was I supposed to know that?” Alak said defensively. “You humans are so weird.”

“Says the guy who just ate a mango wrong,” Christie teased. “Come on, try it this way. The skin doesn’t taste very good anyway.” She used the knife to cut the flesh of the fruit into quarters and handed him one. She put the blade down on the blanket and took a bite, letting the sweet flavor flood her mouth. Alak did the same, holding the slimy piece of fruit with the tips of his fingers.

“So? Better?” Christie asked as she took another big bite. She handed him a second piece of the fruit and kept the other for herself, as she had quickly finished her first. 

“Better,” Alak agreed. “I thought I was the one teaching you things, but you teach me plenty too.”

“Well, knowing how to fight with a knife is a more important skill than knowing how to eat Earth fruit,” she allowed. Taking another bite, she stretched her legs out in front of her and laid back on the cloth below her, looking up into the quickly darkening sky. It was turning a beautiful dark blue, but it mixed with purple and the orange light of the setting sun that shown over this clearing and the rest of Defiance. “Thank you,” she said suddenly. “For all of this. My dad’s been out all day and I didn’t think you’d even remember my birthday, so I wasn’t expecting anything.”

“So little faith in me,” Alak sighed, but Christie knew he was only joking. “I’m glad you like it. I just wanted to spend some time with you, completely alone.”

“How’d you manage it?” she asked, licking her fingers to get the last of the sweet juice from the mango. She twisted her head to the side to look up at him; he had moved closer to her and was perched on his knees just a bit to her right side. 

“A few of my friends helped me,” he admitted. “They helped me find this place, and they’re still hanging around just outside the city to stop anyone who comes this way.”

“Well, thank you.” Christie said. Alak leaned against her slightly, putting one arm across her body to support himself. 

“I’m just glad you’re happy.” He smiled down at her, absentmindedly tracing a pattern on her stomach with his fingers. After a moment, he reached toward her neck. “What necklace are you wearing?” His fingers pulled the silver chain back until he could see the purple gem hanging from it. Immediately, his face lit up.

“You noticed,” Christie said. She sat up, her fingers brushing his as she held the gem away from her breast. He played with it between his fingers, letting the light shine through it to create a shadow on her collarbone. 

“You haven’t worn it in a while,” he said. “I wasn’t sure you still liked it.”

“I love it too much,” Christie assured him. “I didn’t want it to get broken or lost, so I didn’t wear it when I was in town for a while. But it makes me happy, so I wore it today.” She sat up all the way, shifting so that her legs were splayed out to her side and she was directly facing him. 

“Mm,” Alak murmured. “A good gift, then.”

“Everything you’ve given me has been amazing, Alak, even the things that aren’t material. I can’t think of anything else that I want from you.”

Alak looked at her directly, his lilac eyes meeting her own. He brought his hand up to cup her cheek and leaned toward her, and before Christie realized what he was doing his lips were touching hers.

His mouth was incredibly soft on hers, shaping around her lips in the most natural way. She parted her lips and kissed him back, the feeling of kissing him more pleasurable than she would have imagined. Her hands rested gently on his knee as he tipped her chin up with his other hand, moving his moth from her lips to place a small kiss on the side of her neck. Christie smiled, opening her eyes as he leaned down to peck her lips once more, and then he pulled away.

“As I understand it, first kisses on this world are a big deal?” he whispered, placing his forehead against hers as he wound his hands through hers.

She nodded but stayed silent, content to sit calmly with him in this beautiful place. The sounds of the forest around them filled her senses. There were birds chirping in the trees, and the soft buzzing of insects, and the warm smell of the sunlight and the grass and the flowers. And she knew, without a doubt, that she would remember this moment forever.

“I love you,” Alak said suddenly. He drew away from her to look into her eyes. “I hope you know that.”

Christie’s heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t been expecting him to say it, and his words made her feel warm and fuzzy in her heart, as though she was reliving her happiest memories and best dreams all at once. 

“I love you too,” she said. She leaned forward to kiss his cheek, and then untangled her fingers from his and pushed herself off of the ground. 

“But if you don’t get home, I’ll be loving a dead woman?” Alak guessed, and his joke made her laugh. 

“Exactly.” She helped to pull him up and then leaned back down to gather the few fruits back into the basked. She picked up his knife as well, wiping it off with the soft cloth of her dress before putting it back into its sheath. “You know, you made this day a thousand times better just by being with me.”

Alak embraced her, wrapping his arms around her waist, and he took the basket and knife from her before beginning to walk back toward Defiance and its shining business that stuck out from the growing darkness. 

“I love being with you,” Alak told her. “If you didn’t know it before, you know it now.” He grasped her hand with his again. “Now, come on. Let’s get you home, birthday girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was particularly short, I'm sorry about that. 
> 
> As always, I love feedback.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr with the username castithientogenes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! If you enjoyed or have constructive criticism, please leave a review. :) 
> 
> If you want to find me on tumblr, my username is castithientogenes.


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